Did you feel me touch you?
by CountessElizabethCathery
Summary: <html><head></head>Uryu has yet to fully recover from his encounter with Szayel Aporro. Szayel Aporro has yet to forget that 'Delectable' taste.  YAOI AdultxTeen non-con  For TheAngelOfLucifer. Please R&R.</html>
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note: This idea came up after viewing TheAngelOfLucifer's profile and a brief conversation between us. I had just gotten to the part with Uryu and Szayel Aporro and am still not exactly sure what I think about this pairing. This is very iffy ground I am trending upon. But I do like the voodoo plush idea, so I am attempting to write this. **

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><p><strong>Did you feel me touch you?<strong>

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><p>Chapter One: <em>Not quite healed. <em>

All of the damage had been reverted; Nothing remained but psychological scars. But those were perhaps, much harder to deal with. More so than physical scaring. Physical wounds would bleed, scab over, and eventually heal. Leaving only a scar behind; A small reminder of what one went threw.

Psychological wounds on the other hand, would bleed, and fester. Would the wounds heal? Perhaps. Over time and countless hours of therapy. But time and therapy were not options for Uryu Ishida.

He _knew_ it would only be a matter of time before another battle would begin. More wounds inflicted, more scars to remind him of pain and suffering.

Therapy, was not, would never been an option. No that he didn't believe it would help. It might very well be quite helpful. Just not logical. Not for him.

After all, who'd believe what he had to say? No one would. It was almost laughable! He could almost see himself lying on a brown polished leather sofa talking to some stranger about monsters with no souls, whose goal was to destroy not only the world hey came from but the human world as well. No, therapy was not for him.

Uryu sat on the roof of the school, sewing things strewn about him. He was skipping class. Again. Third time that week. Why? Because he just couldn't handle the questions, couldn't handle the answers. He'd wanted to talk. In he beginning. But there was no one who would listen. It was to late now; He'd shut himself in and everyone else out. If anyone asked him how he was doing now, he'd tell them he was perfectly fine. Never better. But if someone had asked him how he was a week earlier? He would have broken down and sobbed openly. He wouldn't have been able to lie, he'd have spilled his guts and told the person exactly what he was feeling. How _frightened_ he really was.

Uryu starred down at his project, carefully paying attention to detail as he stitched. He held the mess of material in one hand while the other weaved back and forth perfectly. His stitching was exact and perfectly measured. He wasn't feeling up to double stitching, or French stitching, but he was careful to reinforce his stitching. He didn't want the thing falling apart the moment he was done after all.

While stitching, his mind began to wander unnoticed, unchecked. It began to wander into dangerous territories. He began recalling his time in Hueco Mundo, more accurately, his time fighting Szayel Aporro Granz. He could still feel the smooth, thick skinned extremities wrapping around him; Encasing him with no hopes of escape. No matter how hard he struggled. He could feel the extremities growing slick as green-yellow tinged liquid was excreted from the top of his biological prison. He could feel his heart pounding against his ribs as the walls began to flex around him, crushing his body in a rhythmic slouching motion. A _sucking_ motion.

Uryu gasped, dropping the bundle of material in his hand as the needle pricked his finger, drawing the smallest of crimson drops. He pushed the digit into his mouth and sucked a moment before releasing it and shaking the slightly throbbing finger into the cooler air. He scowled and starred at the offending appendage for a long while before sighing and removing his glasses. He pinched the bridge of his nose and a quite frustrated noise escaped him. _Why are you thinking about that?_ He gazed down at his fallen project and sighed.

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><p>Uryu paced back and forth about his room; Tossing things in a collected panic; Phone plastered to his ear. "Don't worry, I'll find it." He said as he threw himself across his bed to look behind it. "No. No. Ichi-Ichigo would you shut u-Dammit I'll find it okay!" And with that mild out burst he hung up the phone with an irritated sigh. <em>Damn Soul Reaper. <em>He thought woefully as he lay across his bed. He couldn't believe he'd lost his project.

Orihime's birthday was fast approaching and Ichigo had requested that Uryu make a set of plush dolls for her. He'd agreed only after he'd heard the full request. A plush set with a plush doll Orihime, and a plush doll Sora. Uryu had been touched by Ichigo's thoughtfulness and agreed to the request without charge.

The Sora plush rested on the shelf above his bed, but the Orihime plush was no where to be found. Uryu groaned and covered his face. He couldn't believe he'd misplaced it. He didn't have time to make another, and he couldn't bare the thought of giving her only one of the plush dolls. Sure, she wouldn't know about the other one, but Ichigo would, as would he. He groaned again and rolled over, shoving his face into his pillow.

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><p>The castle was eerily quite. No games, no taunting laughter, vanishing doors-walls or corridors, or woeful cries of despair filled the castle with chaos. The Espada Szayel Aporro sat rigidly upon his thrown, glowering towards the opposite wall as though it had done something to offend him. He was annoyed. With himself, which only furthered annoyed him. Why should he be annoyed with himself? He was perfection! But if he was perfect, than why was he having in-perfect thoughts?<p>

The pink haired mans brows furrowed, a quite snarl rising in his throat. _Damn him. Damn him, damn that Quincy! _His fist clenched, gloved fingers digging into gloved palms. _Damn that taste! _His brow relaxed and his ember eyes glazed over slightly. _That delicious taste. _His tongue snaked out and moistened his lips. _I'll never forget that taste. _His mouth salivated and he nearly purred; But the vibration beginning deep in his chest snapped hi back to reality. And in place of a purr of delight a snarl of disgust escaped him.

He was perfection! He shouldn't think of something as disgusting and inferior as that human!

Szayel Aporro's fowl mood reseeded and he hummed thoughtfully, tapping his gloved fingers against his lips. Perhaps the thought wasn't disgusting-he was perfect after all-no thought he had could possibly be disgusting. _Yes, that delicious taste. _His painted lips curled upwards and a low rumbling chuckle escaped him. "What a deliciously playful idea."

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><p><strong>Authors Note: This will be a short chapter story. Not a one-shot. The chapters will be short, and I don't believe there will be more than five. I hope those who read this will enjoy it. I do hope to get some kind of feed back, after all I've spent a lot of time devising this twisted little fic. <strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note: I apologize for not updating! It's been half a year! Ew. Just ew. I am sorry. It's just… …I fell behind in Bleach (am still behind) and other things caught my attention and honestly I forgot about this story (let alone this FFN account) and I feel really bad about that. I hope you can forgive me! I just went back and re-watched the episode where Renji and Uryu fight Szayel to get a handle on the character again. I haven't forgotten about where I'm taking this story thank goodness. I hope you will enjoy this chapter as much as you enjoyed the last chapter.**

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><p><strong>Did you feel me touch you?<strong>

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><p>Chapter Two: <em>Observation <em>

The yellow-green liquid slid down along the smooth red walls gathering around his ankles and drenching the back of his pants. He struggled and gasped in the humid smell of his prison as he pushed against the walls to try and get away; unfortunately the walls were quite flexible and he could get no purchase. He whimpered and began thrashing madly in panic as the fluid reached his middle. _"No!" _he cried as he clawed at the walls trying to pull himself out of the liquid. It was warm and thick and caused his skin to tingle. He yelped as the walls flexed and forced him up into a nearly upright position. He gasped and squirmed as the red walls began flexing against him. His breathing became labored. _"No. No stop! Stop! STOP!" _

"STOP!" Uryu jolted awake screaming loudly. He sat upright and gazed around his dark room. His eyes were wide and sweat glistened on his forehead and dampened his neck. His night shirt clung to him uncomfortably. He blinked and glanced towards the bedside lamp. He clicked it on and picked up his glasses. His chest rose and fell as he looked around his room. Everything was as it should be. Nothing was out of place. He glanced down at his hands which were gripping the top of his comforter in a death grip. His knuckles were white and his ands trembled terribly. "God." He breathed as he released the comforter and rubbed at his forehead with a trembling hand. He glanced towards his bedroom door. For a brief moment he had half the mind to go to his father but it quickly passed. Why should he go to his father for help? What would his father do? Uryu's eyes narrowed slightly. He'd no doubt blame Uryu's problems on Ichigo stating what a poor influence the young Soul Reaper was. Uryu sighed and lay back against his bed gazing up at the ceiling. No. He couldn't go to his father. This was his problem and he would have to deal with it. He couldn't go to anyone.

He removed his glasses and set them on the bedside table. He twisted his body and clicked off the light, remaining on his side as he snuggled against his pillow and burrowed himself deeper beneath his quilt. In his haste to try and get back to sleep due to fear of insomnia the teenage Quincy failed to notice the dark silhouette cast across his bed from the window.

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><p>Szayel Aporro Granz had wasted little time in deciding a plan of action. He had reasoned with himself that no matter his thoughts he should not be annoyed with himself for he was perfection. And being such a perfect being meant that he was incapable of thinking any imperfect thought. The mere idea of getting annoyed at himself over such a foolish thing was nearly laughable.<p>

Once he'd reasoned everything out he'd set off to the human world. It had taken him little time to locate the Quincy for the teens smell was enough to draw him. It was like one who sampled a most delicious food. The wondrous smell that accompanied the food never left the senses. When he'd located the teens home he'd perched himself out on the balcony-or rather he'd lounged against the railing. He knew it would be so easy to just take what he wanted. _Simpler_. But he wasn't after simple. He was after the reward. What would be more rewarding? What would bring him the most pleasure? He'd come to the conclusion that it would take time to make his decision. And with his time he planned to keep an eye on his prey.

He'd watched the boy argue over the phone, read some pointless book and get ready for bed. He'd watched the boy sleep for only an hour or so when the boy had begun making the softest and most delicious noises. It was obvious he'd been in distress and the mere thought brought a pleasant tingle to Szayel. He didn't have to _imagine _what the boy could be dreaming about. There was no doubt in his mind. The mere idea of the boy dreaming about him and making those noises made him feel absolutely giddy. It would be oh so _rewarding._

Szayel, once sure the boy was once again asleep, entered the bedroom without a sound. He gazed around with disgust. Humans were really very crude disgusting creatures. Quincy's and Soul Reapers were no better. In fact. If it wasn't a hollow than he didn't much care for it at all. He walked around the room looking at things here and there with only minor curiosity. His prey was a disgusting Quincy. Disgusting, but his chosen target either way. He might as well get to learn more about _its_ dwelling. Perhaps he'd find something else to use against _it._

When he came near the end of a desk he blinked and hummed thoughtfully to himself. He bent at the middle and reached behind the thick wooden desk. His fingers came into contact with something soft. He pulled it out to find that it was a toy doll. It was simple and naked. He glanced back over his shoulder towards the bed as the sleeping teen made a noise in his sleep and rolled onto his back. Sure the teen wouldn't wake up he looked back at the doll. It appeared to have had something spilt on it. He sniffed at it. It smelled sweet and disgusting at the same time. He tossed the doll on the desk with little interest and turned to stare at the teen. He crossed his arms.

"Oh how easy it would be to just take you little Quincy. Luckily for you I want you to beg for me to put you out of your misery and that will take time." He grinned a little to himself. "Or perhaps that is _unluck_y for you."

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><p><strong>Authors Note: Yeah. Szayel is a creeper. The next chapter will be up in less than six months! I promise! <strong>


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